


High Flying Bonus Scenes

by WriteSprite



Series: The High Flying Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-12 19:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteSprite/pseuds/WriteSprite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonus Scenes is the companion piece to High Flying. Inside will be 5 chapters consisting of scenes either told from another character's POV or that didn't make the final cut. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 7, The Draco Version

**Author's Note:**

> POV: Draco M.
> 
> Remember in the main story when Scorpius was home sick from camp? Let's revisit that day, from Draco's (snarky) perspective...

"Daaaad!"

Draco was barely able to suppress the urge to roll his eyes, but his body still rebelled with a sigh and a slump of his shoulders. He loved his son with all his heart, but it was only day two of Scorpius' illness and the slight whine in his voice was grating on Draco's nerves. Scorpius had started off just feeling a little tired and cranky, but his symptoms quickly worsened to include fever, sore throat, and an uncanny ability to bellow for Draco every twenty minutes, down to the second.

He'd spent most of the afternoon preparing a Pepper-Up Potion, but that was just a temporary fix. He wouldn't be able to make an Amelio Draught until another stock of dried elderberry was delivered to the apothecary.

He closed his eyes wearily and counted to five before getting up from his desk in the study and climbing the stairs up to Scorpius' room.

Poking his head around the door, he tried not to chuckle at Scorpius' half-hearted attempt to take a nap. His son was lying on top of his crimson coverlet, legs and arms akimbo as though he were a rag doll that someone tossed haphazardly onto the bed.

"Scorpius, you should be resting," he stated in a quiet but firm manner.

"I can't! My throat still hurts." There was still a dreadful pallor to his face that made Draco cringe with worry. He would be greatly relieved when his ingredient shipment arrived.

In a soft voice Draco responded, "I know. But it's too soon to give you another Pepper-Up and the rest of the ingredients I need for your medicine won't be in until tomorrow. You're going to have to be strong for me. Can you do that?"

Scorpius looked at him pitifully. "I'll try."

Draco nodded with a slight smile and went to exit the room when Scorpius spoke again. "Will you stay with me dad? Please?"

His smile grew and he crossed the room to sit on the edge of his son's bed. "Do you want to hear a story?" he offered.

A tiny fire sparked in Scorpius' eyes. "I want to hear about the Knights of the Round Table!" he cried, voice cracking with both excitement and hoarseness.

Damn that Potter.

"Scorpius," he tried. "I told you before, I don't know anything about knights." That wasn't entirely true. There were some stories of jousting and the like that had reached even _his_ ears as a child, but best not to let on about that. Instead, he swallowed hard before uttering his next thought. "Why don't you ask Coach Harry about them when you're able to go back to camp?"

_I can't believe I'm encouraging my son to talk to Potter. And about bloody knights for that matter._

Scorpius threw him another miserable glance. "When can I go back to camp? I'm missing everything!"

"Probably not until the day after tomorrow," Draco began, holding up a hand when his son tried to interrupt. "I still have to make your potion, you have to take it, and then you have to stay in bed for the rest of the day. Let's see how you feel in two days."

"I miss Coach Harry," Scorpius muttered under his breath. Draco pretended not to hear, but thought to himself.

_Yes, Potter does seem to be getting under our skin, doesn't he?_

Potter was appearing in Draco's thoughts more often than appropriate ever since he'd seen him during Scorpius' first week at camp. Straightaway, he'd been jolted back to his days at Hogwarts when he saw the raven-haired wizard shaking his son's hand. A thick rope of jealousy had taken hold of his chest. Why was it that Potter could let bygones be bygones with his son, but not him? Not once had he ever reached out to Draco during the last ten years. Had he not thought about him at all?

Probably not since the war trials, he thought grimly.

Draco, to his credit, had thought about Potter several times over the past decade, but normally only in conjunction with thoughts of his mother and her departure to the Swiss Alps. Vague appreciation for Potter's role in securing her freedom tended to flit through his mind like a hummingbird. But other than those fleeting reflections, he hadn't thought of Potter in depth until the night Scorpius asked if he could take private lessons with the former Gryffindor. And though Draco was still carrying around some residual anger from Hogwarts, he couldn't deprive his son of something so innocuous and finally gave in to send Potter an owl.

And then…he'd happened to catch a glimpse of Potter through the front window of the Manor on the first day of Scorpius' lessons. He was admiring his mother's flowers in the garden and looked so serene and vulnerable and…attractive.

He still favored Muggle jeans, much as he had in school, but gangly teenaged Potter was no match for this muscular and tanned version that Draco much preferred. So much so that he felt the need to greet Potter personally rather than have the elves attend to him.

Dazedly coming back to the present, he decided to comment on his son's statement after all. "I'm sure he misses you too."

After a few minutes of consoling Scorpius Draco was coming down the staircase, mind set on going down to his lab to prepare the base ingredients for the Amelio Potion. However, his thoughts promptly evaporated when he heard an angry and insistent banging on the front door.

_What the devil is going on?_

Hastening his step, he heard Lenni's muffled greeting, but could not make out the voice of his visitor from where he stood on the second floor.

_Who would be coming over at this time in the evening? And without firecalling first no less._

Finally reaching the bottom step, he was met with an angry green stare and the blistering fury of Harry Potter.

Something stirred low in Draco's groin as he watched Potter rage at him. His shock at seeing the bespectacled wizard faded and he was now drawn in by the gem-like quality of his eyes. They fairly crackled with energy and Draco found himself sputtering as he tried to keep up with what Potter was saying.

"Am I – what?" Did Potter ask him if he was punishing Scorpius? Had the boy done something at camp to set Potter off? "Why would I be punishing Scorpius?"

An ugly scowl twisted on Potter's face.

"He hasn't been at camp for two days and you haven't sent any word about him and I know you were angry when you left Grimmauld Place the last time you saw me and - " The brunette rushed through his words and then cut off the rest of his sentence just as quickly.

He may not have finished, but Draco caught the insinuation behind the words. "And you thought that because I was angry with you that I would penalize my son and keep him from doing something that makes him happy. Merlin Potter, you are a piece of work."

He watched as Harry colored slightly and began to squeeze his fingers, much like a house elf would. For some odd reason, the gesture was endearing and softened Draco's next sentence much more than he had originally planned.

"Scorpius is ill and rather than subject the rest of that motley group you teach to his germs, I decided to keep him home until he was feeling better. Is that quite alright with you?"

"Oh."

Draco smirked and allowed himself to take in Potter's appearance during this lull. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt again, an outfit which Draco was quickly becoming fond of. Yet it was his face that truly held his attention this time. Potter's face had filled out, giving him a healthy athletic appearance. The scar was still there of course, but was mostly covered by a bit of dark fringe that didn't appear to want to stay put on Potter's head. Draco's gray eyes were then drawn down to Potter's magical emerald orbs. They were beautiful, Draco was chagrined to admit, like most of Potter was now.

He was pulled from his reverie when the other man began speaking again. "But you could have sent an owl or something. I was worried."

Draco suppressed a satisfied smirk and settled for a grin instead. _I like that you worry about us._

Potter had not specifically included Draco as one of the objects of his concern, but the blond was going to assume it was implied.

"Apparently. I'm sorry that I didn't let you know, but I've been rather busy taking care of him. I don't trust the house elves with him when he's like this. They'll just coddle him and feed him ice cream without giving him the proper potions."

Potter's forehead wrinkled in obvious confusion. "Why can't his mum take care of him some of the time? Give you a break?"

Draco froze, instantly on guard. His neck hurt with the effort of keeping it completely still, but he needed to scrutinize the question. Did Potter really not know about Draco's orientation? He guessed not after a moment's thought. It _had_ been about a decade since they'd really spoken. How was he supposed to know? Still, better to be cautious in case of a hidden agenda.

"Scorpius' mother and I are not together." There. He'd answered the question, but not let on about why they were separated. It was embarrassing enough when Larissa had discovered his _Bare Broomstick_ magazine, he didn't really want to live through that moment again. But trust Potter to always push the envelope.

"Why not?" he asked, curiosity barely contained in his expression.

It was his similarity to Scorpius in that moment that made Draco willing to give in to the questioning.

"Do you always just blurt out inappropriate questions, heedless of other people's privacy?"

Potter blushed handsomely and chuckled. "I guess so. It's part of my Gryffindor charm."

_Indeed. Best not to say just how charming. Fine. Full disclosure it is then._

"Yes well, I think Larissa found my fondness for cock rather distasteful."

A loud laugh desperately wanted to fight its way out of Draco's throat at that moment. Potter's expression was priceless. He resembled an ocean creature filter feeding based solely on the way his mouth opened and closed several times without sound.

Potter positively squeaked when he responded. "Your fondness for – you're gay?"

"Yes. Aren't you? I wouldn't think you would find that particular trait shocking in someone else."

_Especially after your late-night rendezvous with a random bloke that left you looking like you'd been ambushed by a vampire…_

But of course Potter couldn't give him a straight answer. "It's not _someone_ being gay. It's you, Draco Malfoy, being gay that's shocking."

Something airy and delicious flowed through Draco's veins. _He called me Draco_ , it sang. That was the moment he decided. He didn't care what it took. He would make Harry Potter his. The blond wasn't sure what kind of opponent he would find in the man Potter had brought home on Saturday, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter that they'd been enemies in school either. He just knew that he wanted to keep hearing Potter say his name that way. Preferably while Draco was on top of him, drilling against his prostate -

"What?" Potter asked nervously and Draco realized he hadn't responded. In fact he probably had an idiotic grin on his face if the concern on Potter's was anything to go by.

"Do you realize that's probably the first time you've ever said my first name?"

Draco could see the lie forming on Potter's lips before he could speak it. "I'm sure I have before."

_He's uncomfortable. I'll give him a reprieve. For now._

"When you can think of an instance, be sure to let me know. In the meantime, I would assume you would like to see Scorpius since you came all this way. That way you can know that he really is under the weather and I haven't strung him up by his toes out of anger."

Potter got his composure back. "I'd like that. Not to prove that he's sick, just to see him. I trust you," he seemed to add as an afterthought.

It was the blonds turn to lose his poise for a moment. But thankfully he was a Malfoy and it only showed in the raising of an eyebrow. "Do you?"

"Well, mostly," Potter replied with a flush.

Draco laughed. This was going to be fun.

* * *

Draco knew he was babbling as they ascended the stairs up to Scorpius' room, but he needed to do something to cover the thoughts rapidly whirling in his mind. Potter's presence behind him on the steps was unnerving. It had been far too long since he'd had anyone else in the Manor, let alone up to his son's room. Running his enterprises was like two full-time jobs on top of making sure that Scorpius was safe and no one tried to exact any last-minute revenge on either of them for his actions in the war.

But maybe it was time to relax a bit. He was certain that should he engage in a relationship with Potter that the Gryffindor in him would always make sure both he and Scorpius were well-taken care of. Something to think about for sure.

For now though, he just had to think of a way to keep Potter here for a while longer so that he could gauge if that was something that could ever happen.

Draco leaned up against the wall in the hallway with his arms crossed as he watched Potter converse quietly with Scorpius. He was sat on the edge of the bed much like Draco had done not too long ago. He had to admit, Potter seemed to be really good with the boy. And Scorpius' eyes lit up in a way they hadn't for days when he saw Potter enter the room.

_That's good. If Potter is someone I decide to have in my life it's imperative that I have Scorpius' approval first._

He jerked his head up as Harry came back into the hall, a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

_Let's test our luck now, shall we?_

"Going back home now that you've performed your hero duties for the day?"

Draco hadn't anticipated such a hearty laugh coming from Potter. "Guess so. Why? Did you expect me to stay and keep you company?"

Gritting his teeth was painful, Draco was finding out. He had to admit that Potter's cynicism stung. Was it so preposterous to believe that Potter might want to spend some time with him?

_It might not have been had you not stormed out of Grimmauld Place the other night. It's no wonder he doesn't want to visit with you._

But he still had to try. "You could stay for a drink if you wanted to."

_Don't turn around to look at him._

Draco didn't want to know what kinds of emotions would be crossing Potter's face just then. He didn't need any more blows to his pride this evening. And just when he thought the silence was going to choke him, Potter spoke.

"I can stay for a drink."

Draco couldn't help it. He stopped on the stairs to look back at Potter. The brunet wore a sheepish expression, but didn't look away from Draco's stare.

_Maybe I have a chance after all._

"Right then. Follow me."

Draco's heart was hammering in his chest as they walked down to one of the small libraries on the first floor. He very much wanted to place his forehead into the palm of his hand and try to sort out his thoughts, but knew that would be unbecoming of a Malfoy. Instead, he strode across the room as though he hadn't a care in the world. "Pick your poison."

From the corner of his eye, Draco saw Potter sit in the armchair near the window. He might have expected Potter to pick the one chair in the room that Draco favored the most. "Er, Firewhiskey is fine. Thanks."

He prepared their drinks and then sat down opposite the green-eyed wizard. Under the façade of looking down at his glass while he sipped, he watched Potter watch him. He probably thought he was being inconspicuous, but Draco felt the weight of Potter's eyes as they trailed down from his neck to his chest. He also caught the look of near-disappointment when he couldn't see anything beyond where the robe was tied together. The blond was suddenly very glad he'd forgone a shirt tonight and swallowed another mouthful of Firewhiskey.

Based on Potter's cough, he was affected by what he saw there. "When did you know you were gay?" he blurted hastily.

"I think on some level I always knew, but probably when I started thinking more about being reamed from behind by a bloke than about touching breasts."

Ugh. He was unwillingly reminded of the last time he'd had sex with Larissa. His lip curled in disgust just thinking about her soft bits brushing up against him.

The sight of Potter choking as a result of his words was enough to pull that unpleasant thought from his mind and light a playful gleam in his eyes.

After several long moments, he was able to choke out, "You're an ass."

_And now to go in for the kill._

"I figured it out in Hogwarts. Got a little too excited during those after-Quidditch showers, if you know what I mean." Draco decided to wink at Potter purely to see his reaction. Plus, his mother wasn't here to see it so she wouldn't chastise him about improper behavior. Besides, it seemed to have the desired effect on Potter.

"You're – not like I thought you were."

_You never really knew me from the beginning though, did you?_

"I suppose that's one of the hazards of keeping childhood impressions of someone and applying them to the adult they've grown into." Let him chew on that one for a minute. Potter needed to be the one to decide if they could get over their prior animosity, but Draco wouldn't force him into it. Absolutely would not guilt him into making a decision.

But Potter was taking too long to respond. Draco felt the need to throw something else out there to catch his attention.

"I think you've changed too."

Green eyes snapped up to his, previous train of thought completely derailed. "How so?"

"Well, you're still just as reckless as you were, jumping into things with both feet before really looking at the whole picture. But you're more laid-back. I feel like I can tease you now and you won't go storming off into a rage." He took a breath and his tongue rapidly darted out to moisten his lips. "And of course you're much better looking now." He was taking a chance with that one. He still wasn't sure how attached Potter was to his boyfriend.

"What?" Potter was struggling to find his bearings again. A satisfied glow settled over Draco's skin at the blush growing on the cheeks across from him.

"Come now Potter, you must know what you look like. No one would be able to pull a boyfriend like the one you've got without being fairly attractive." Draco was interested in how Potter would respond. Would he admit that he thought himself attractive, deny it, or return the compliment to Draco? He was hoping for the later, but as usual, Potter had to go and throw expectations out the window.

"I'm sorry about what he said to you. It was completely unwarranted. And for the record, he's not my boyfriend. That was our first date."

Oh. This changes _everything_. Draco tried very hard to contain his glee. He stared down at his glass and bit the inside of his lip hard enough to create a small cut. He laved the wound with the tip of his tongue before responding.

"Apology accepted." The man that had accompanied Potter to Grimmauld Place wasn't his boyfriend after all. And he'd felt that Draco was worthy of an apology for his behavior. That was more than he'd expected at this early stage, if at all.

_I'm curious how far he'll let me go though…_

"First date, eh? Seems like you two make short work of things."

"Tim is a little…enthusiastic." Draco was rewarded with an eye-roll.

Completely pleased now, he laughed. "I'd say. But don't tell me you don't like it."

Potter suddenly appeared troubled. "I," his words trailed off. Draco fought the urge to encourage him on but let him find the right words. "It's complicated."

_And why is that?_

His next words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them. He just didn't like seeing Potter's face so distressed. "It doesn't have to be," Draco said quietly.

"How so?"

Draco sighed. He wasn't really prepared for the turn this conversation had taken. "Either you're attracted to him or you're not. And if you are, and his personality is enough to match yours, then that should be it, end of."

The twist in Draco's stomach told him that he was hoping that Potter would find his personality match in someone else. Preferably the blond that currently sat across from him.

Potter nodded and then shortly announced that he needed to go since it was getting late. He refused Draco's offer to walk him to the front door and stated that he'd be fine in reaching it himself.

So Draco sat and stared at the fire for long moments after Potter left. He was sure he'd given the other man lots to think about. What he really hadn't anticipated was doing some thinking of his own.


	2. Ron & Draco Have A Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Harry storms off in a strop at the end of Chapter 16, Ron decides Draco needs some liquid comfort.

How had his life come to this? Was he really so pathetic as to be traveling to some Merlin-forsaken bar with a bloody Weasley? And in the middle of a workday for that matter? All because his boyfriend had a hissy fit and a slight flair for the dramatic? Draco sighed quietly. Yes, apparently he  _was_  that pathetic and quite staunchly ignoring the fact that most people were at their cubicle desks while he was out gallivanting with the Weasel. Yet again, Harry Potter was altering the very fabric of Draco's being, without even being present.

After their brief (and quiet) Portkey trip back to the Ministry, Draco began having second thoughts. It was one thing to be somewhat cordial with Harry's friends while they were away. No one really knew him in Hertfordshire. But this was London. Muggle London, but London nonetheless. What if he was seen by Pansy? Or worse, Blaise? Zabini had been tolerant of Harry, but Draco knew he would draw the line at the Weasleys. Draco cringed.

"You know Weasley, why don't you just get back to Granger? I've got some things I need to tie up and..."

The redhead had thrown him a side-long glance, tugged on his elbow and proceeded to lead him down multiple blocks to stop at a Muggle establishment. Draco tried very hard not to wrinkle his nose at the mere sight of the pub Weasley had dragged him to. Despite the fact that it wasn't even noon, there were a fair amount of people crowding at the wooden bar, sipping silently from their mugs. The tiled floors were sticky, the counters were coated with an unhealthy dose of crumbs, and his mother would have had a conniption over the state of the glassware. But he still dutifully followed his unlikely drinking companion to a corner table and sat down…after aiming a discreet cleaning spell at the seat.

"Well, we're here now Weasley. What wisdom do you have to impart?" Draco asked, glancing with distrust at the bowl of roasted nuts that sat in the middle of the table. He grimaced before turning his attention to the man across from him.

"I just wanted to talk to you about Harry," he said, reaching for a handful of the snack food in front of him. The blatant disregard for how long they'd been there and who else had touched them turned the blond's stomach.

_Does he know how many germs are in that bowl alone?_

Swallowing down bile he asked, "What about Potter?"

Ron finished his mouthful and then looked resolutely at the tabletop. "Listen, I don't normally get involved in Harry's affairs- "

Draco snorted, elegance be damned. He knew for a fact that the man was  _too_  involved in Harry's affairs. Case in point, their little shirtless incident when he'd shown up at Draco and Harry's hotel room unannounced.

With a roll of his eyes Ron continued. "I don't get involved in Harry's affairs  _much_. Especially not about relationships."

"But you're making an exception in my case. You flatter me Weasley."

"Will you let me talk?" Ron blustered.

Draco extended his hand in a gesture encouraging him to carry on.

"Harry is crazy about you."

Gray eyes narrowed with suspicion. "He told you that?"

"Not in so many words, but Harry can be pretty easy to read. Especially when you've known him as long as I have. Take my word for it, he's falling hard. Besides, he's pretty much been obsessed with you since we were kids."

Draco took a steadying breath. While it was nice to hear a confirmation of Harry's feelings from his best friend, it didn't quite take the sting out of being abandoned that morning.

"Yes well, that didn't stop him from leaving."

Ron looked thoughtful and then paused while the waiter came over to take their orders. They both ordered a lager before continuing the conversation.

"Just don't give up on him," Ron implored suddenly.

Draco frowned. "Who said I was giving up on him? He was a right prat this morning, but I'm not going to call it quits after one argument." A sudden thought came to mind and Draco's stomach whirled with nausea. "You don't think he's given up on  _me_ , do you?"

A long pause from Ron had Draco's stomach churning violently. It was just a stupid fight. Surely Harry wouldn't give up what they had just because of that?

"No, I don't think he has. He's just upset right now. Malfoy, what I think you don't understand is how much Harry thrives on normalcy and mundane things other people take for granted, like birthdays. There were several years when he wasn't even sure if he would make it to his next birthday. So yeah, he's being pissy right now, I'll admit. But it's only because he cares about you enough to want you around for his special occasions."

Draco was floored. Not at the content of the admission, because that actually made sense. But the fact that it was Weasley making sense was a little disconcerting.

"I don't think I've ever heard you string so many coherent sentences together before," he stated evenly.

Ron chuckled and took a sip of his beer. "I keep telling you lot, its been known to happen." He paused and his face took on a serious expression. "I have a question for you though," he added.

_Great. Here comes the requisite best friend interrogation..._

Taking a swig of his drink as well, Draco nodded. "Go on."

"What are your intentions with Harry?" Ron asked, a faint pink tingeing his cheeks.

"Pardon?" Draco stifled a guffaw at Ron's phrasing.

"I mean, is this something that has a future? Or is it just a fling?"

Draco tightened his grip around the glass stein. "Certainly not a fling," he said quietly. He thought about how much Scorpius seemed to care about Harry. There was no way he would have let his son get so attached to someone if the relationship had no future.

Ron seemed to let go of a breath he'd been holding. "Good, I'm glad to hear that," he replied, nodding.

Giving a weak smile, Draco returned to his drink.

"Harry was right when he said you'd changed," Ron blurted suddenly.

Draco quirked an eyebrow. "How do you figure?"

"You're not as evil as you used to be," he explained.

"Not  _as_  evil?" Draco questioned.

Ron didn't seem to catch the emphasis. "Exactly. You're not too terrible to be around anymore and you obviously care about your son and Harry. Though you'll always be a bit of a pointy-faced git," he added solemnly.

Draco took a sip of his lager and smirked. "Of course."

"So why did you change? Not that I'm not glad you did, but you know. What brought it on?"

Pondering what his response should be, Draco looked down at his drink to buy himself some time. _Weasley must be well on his way to inebriated if he's asking soul-searching questions. Can't be much harm in telling him the truth_.

"I used to be like this, relatively pleasant I mean, a long time ago. Back when I was a child I used to beg my parents to let me give my toys away to my friends. I didn't want anyone to feel left out. I was actually a lot like Scorpius is now. Believe it or not."

"I choose not." Ron wore a skeptical look that made Draco want to throw a handful of the disease-ridden nuts in his face. He shrugged instead.

"The war and the events leading up to it...changed people. Changed me. The Malfoy that you knew in school that was taunting and bullying? That wasn't me. Not really. That was a boy trying to emulate his father. And by the time that I realized that no amount of imitation was going to make him proud of me it was rather too late."

Draco continued looking at his hands, this time to hide the flush from admitting such personal truths to someone he didn't even know that well. Clearing his throat he continued.

"Anyway, after the war when the main threat of the Dark Lord killing my family was gone I was able to relax. There were still duties I felt I had to fulfill at the time, but as long as they didn't entail torturing and killing, that was alright with me. So I sort of reverted back to how I was as a child. Only now I'm sharing toys with Scorpius." He grinned, realizing that he couldn't wait to get home and hug his son.

Ron on the other hand looked contemplative. "You're alright Malfoy," he said finally.

An unexpected tightness clenched at Draco's chest. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded with a small wry grin and promptly downed the rest of his beer.  _Merlin, I must have had too much to drink already. I'm getting sickeningly sentimental._

"How are things going with you and Granger?" he asked the moment he'd gathered his wits.

"Me and Mione?" Ron squeaked and then cleared his throat quickly.

"Yes, Hermione and yourself. How are things with you two? You've pried into my relationship, it's only fair for me to return the favor," Draco explained with a twitch of his lips.

Blushing furiously, Ron answered. "Things are…better. We've been rocky for years now, but I really think we've got it this time, you know?"

Draco nodded sagely as though he were privy to all the past details of their relationship. No matter. Harry would no doubt fill in any blanks later.

"She's not pressuring you into getting married?" Draco asked.

Ron choked on his beer.

"Merlin no! Could you think of any better way to scare a bloke off?"

Draco chuckled. "She just seems like the type that would be ready to settle down."

"Dunno." Ron cocked his head to the side in thought. "I'm just happy that we've been able to stay in a relationship for longer than a week. Marriage and all that stuff will be there."

"Perhaps," Draco intoned mysteriously. "Or maybe she's impatiently waiting for you to grow a pair and pop the question. You know how women are," he waved his hand carelessly.

His words were met with a blank stare that quickly morphed into terror. "You're joking," Ron rasped.

Draco held his gaze for a few beats before laughing uproariously. "I  _am_  joking. I have no clue if Granger wants to marry you or not. The only way for you to find out is to ask her."

Ron's breathing seemed to steady, but his voice had not yet recovered. "You're a git, you know that? Scaring me like that."

Draco's face took on a devious expression. "I might be dating Harry, but I'm still a Malfoy. I have to get my shots in where I can. So," he continued cheerfully. "How about those Cannons?"


	3. The Conception of Scorpius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is self-explanatory. Told from Draco's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned in the main story, Draco's canon wife is Astoria Greengrass. However, for the purposes of my story, I chose to use an OFC named Larissa.
> 
> Warnings: HetSex (sort of), Underage M/M Sex

The look that Larissa was giving him from across the dining room table was making him uneasy. Actually, uneasy wasn't the most accurate description. More like sick to his stomach. It should really be against some sort of pure-blood protocol to display such lecherous expressions over a five-course meal.

Draco knew that he was far from a prude. Back at Hogwarts, he consistently out-raunched his Slytherin cronies with sexually-explicit, but witty jokes. And his misgivings certainly didn't lie with Larissa's looks. Her fair skin, light blue eyes, and chin-length strawberry blonde locks were enough to make any woman want to hex her out of jealousy and make any man drool.

But Draco wasn't just _any_ man. He was a man who was attracted to other men.  _Not_  women. And definitely not the outrageously gorgeous, graceful, and currently randy specimen sitting across from him.

Jangling with nerves, Draco wondered how he had gotten himself into this situation. The answer came to him before he could bring a forkful of brown rice to his lips.

Narcissa.

The tall blonde devil-woman had worked her maternal magic and pleaded with Draco to give the family a proper heir. Her casual mentions of pure-blood families with eligible daughters became less casual and more frequent as time went on, rapidly eroding Draco's plausible excuses for declining the role of suitor. And since Draco's sensibilities prohibited him from simply admitting to his mother that he was gay, he eventually gave in.

Though not as prestigious as some other families with available daughters like the Greengrasses, the Marcals had obtained a respectable level of wealth and were not as concerned with the stigma that now followed the Malfoys everywhere. Before she departed from England, Narcissa had made sure to do her son one last 'favor' and set up a meeting between Draco and Larissa Marcal. Exemplary son that he now was, he had thought himself doing the right thing, both for himself and his mother. Ingratiate himself with the Marcal family, court and eventually marry 19-year-old Larissa, produce a child - preferably a son, and carry on the Malfoy name.

He thought that he could suppress his desires for men. He'd kept his preferences under wraps for this long. How hard could it be to feign attraction to a woman for the sake of keeping what was left of his family intact? Easy-peasy, right?

Not so much. And now, here he was, four months later and feeling uncomfortably intimidated by the five-foot nothing Barbie Doll.

Larissa locked eyes with him and took a lascivious bite of her steak, tongue darting out to swipe at a dab of sauce left behind on her lower lip. Draco gulped.

"Draco dear, you said you completed all your paperwork, did you not?" Larissa asked between prim bites.

"I did say that, but I think that there is one report that-"

She held up a delicate hand to stop him mid-sentence. "Nonsense. I know that you're more than caught up on your work, so we're going to spend some time together tonight in your suite."

Heart hammering in his chest, Draco replied. "Perhaps, we could meet in your chambers instead? I daresay that it would be more chivalrous if I came to you."

 _And that way you won't contaminate my bed_ , Draco added in his head.

Larissa looked thoughtful and then smiled. "That sounds lovely."

He gave her a shaky smile and silently went back to prodding at his meat.

* * *

Draco stood outside Larissa's bedroom door for several minutes before knocking hesitantly. He knew this day would eventually come, but was rather hoping that he could keep putting it off. Apparently one could only plead that they were busy with work so many times before their significant other hunted them down.

"Come in Draco," a lilting voice called from within.

Steeling himself, Draco entered the room confidently and congratulated himself on hardly staggering at all when he took in Larissa's form on the bed. Smack dab in the middle of the mattress, Larissa was lounging on her side, adorned in a gauzy peach-colored slip. The hue clashed horribly with her complexion and made her look sallow and washed-out. But nonetheless, she threw Draco a come-hither glance while none-too-subtly putting her breasts on display like some sort of exotic bird.

 _Come on Malfoy. One foot in front of the other._ He crossed over to the bed and sat down lightly beside his…girlfriend. Even saying that word in his head made him shudder. Strong enough that Larissa noticed.

"Don't tell me that the unflappable Draco Malfoy is frightened of being intimate with his future wife," she said with a light laugh.

"Of course not," Draco chided. "I'm just anxious."

Larissa's eyes seemed to glow as she misconstrued his meaning. "As am I." With that, she reached her hand out and clasped Draco's.

Draco swallowed thickly and allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace. Far too quickly for his liking, he found himself hovering over Larissa's waiting body, kissing her modestly. Despite the disinterest in his actions, she moaned quietly and ran her hands along Draco's back.

"Why have we waited so long to do this Draco?" she murmured against his lips.

_I suppose you're looking for an answer other than, 'Because I'm gay.'_

"The timing's been bad Larissa. Work has kept me quite short on time and energy."

_And interest..._

Larissa brought her hands up from Draco's waist to tangle in his hair. "Don't worry darling, I can make you forget all about work."

Draco worked his grimace into an approximation of arousal and shifted to lie beside her. With stiff motions, Draco's hands crept up under the hem of her gown and caressed her thigh. He closed his eyes as Larissa began mouthing at his neck, willing himself away to another time in the continuum where the deed was already done and he was happy with a child and had a perfectly understanding beau on the side with whom to channel his sexual desires.

He could see it now. Coming home bone-tired after a day of meetings, but still finding the energy to play with his son or daughter. Then putting him or her to bed and venturing to a previously unused wing of the Manor where his lover would be waiting with a hard-on and a smile.

The mind games seemed to work for the time being and he soon was back on top, all their clothes strewn at the foot of the bed and Larissa panting for Draco to take her.

With a clenched jaw and steely resolve, Draco maneuvered his grudging hardness into Larissa and waited.

It felt wrong. Too wet, too much give. He began to thrust gently and screwed his eyes shut, thinking back to his days at Hogwarts. It was time to bring out the heavy artillery.

Flickers of a fifth year late-night rendezvous sparked to life in his mind. The night with Adrian Pucey after the Slytherin-Gryffindor match was eye-opening in so many ways. For weeks, he'd been on the receiving end of lingering looks after Quidditch practice that brought an instant blush to Draco's cheeks. Initially, he thought he'd been imagining it. How could a 16-year-old, and a male for that matter, be interested in him?

It only took two more coy glances for Draco to find out. Feeling bold that night, he had caught Pucey's eye as he stepped into the showers and held the contact while allowing the hot water to course down his body. A hard stare was burning into his backside as he turned around to suds up, playing into the attention and hoping he was putting on a good show. He made sure to drag out his final rinse, dawdling while waiting for the others to leave and praying that Pucey approached him. Draco recalled scowling at a half-dressed and loitering Bletchley until he finally took the hint and left. And once the locker room was empty, Pucey made his move, slinking his naked body over to Draco's stall.

Draco wasted no time in casting a strong Disillusionment Charm and fell back against the slippery wall of the shower for Pucey to do as he pleased. The older boy leaned into Draco's body, his dark brown hair dripping into his eyes.

"I know you want this. Don't think I haven't noticed those wicked little glances you give me," he said. Yet, though his voice was playful and seductive, his eyes asked the question of consent silently. Draco gave a jerky nod, acquiescing to all Pucey's intentions before the latter leaned down and kissed the blond below him.

Everything beyond that point was a blur. Draco vaguely remembered being turned around at some point, allowing Pucey to drop to his knees and work the blonds opening with tongue and fingers. Then everything felt full. There was a burning sensation that was quickly soothed by open-mouthed kisses on his neck and shoulders. Deep thrusts and growls and moans drowned out by the hammering of water from the shower overhead. And a sudden electric shock radiating through his body as Pucey struck a pleasure bundle far within his canal. It felt so brilliant that his sudden orgasm was of no surprise.

Spilling his seed onto his stomach...onto the shower wall...

Spilling...into Larissa.

Draco came out of his reverie and immediately realized that while his mind had been elsewhere, his body had been on auto-pilot.

"Fuck," Draco swore shakily.

"Language Draco," Larissa chided, but she too seemed unsteady.

"I apologize," he said after swallowing thickly. "I couldn't last any longer."

Larissa smiled feebly at him. "Don't apologize. I take that as a compliment."

Draco forced a chuckle and then moved back to Larissa's side, thankfully slipping out of her passage at the same time. He closed his eyes against her questioning gaze and shivered when she ran her wand over them both, cleaning up the evidence of their coupling.

 _Hopefully, this little episode has bought me some time,_ Draco thought.  _Or maybe, my semen has extra magical powers and I've managed to get her up the duff from just this one night._

Sometimes, wishes come true. But  _other_  times…

* * *

Draco started when the door to his office was flung open so hard that it bounced off the wall behind it. Larissa's heavily pregnant body stood in the doorway, grasping a glossy brochure in one hand, clenching the other into a fist.

"What the fuck is this?" she asked angrily. Draco looked up from his desk in surprise, thrown by both her tone and use of language. It was then that Draco noticed that the magazine she held was actually the January issue of Bare Broomstick he had hidden under a heavy concealment spell in his private chambers. Larissa apparently had filtered her new obsession with baby-proofing the Manor into Draco's domain and found something she would rather not have.

His mouth opened and then closed before he could form a response. Because what was there to say, really? His beautiful pregnant girlfriend had stumbled across his sexually-explicit gay periodical that was, let's face it, a little worse for the wear due to frantic wanking sessions.

"Larissa, I-"

"All this time," she interrupted, shaking her head and eyes shimmering with the beginning of tears. "All this time, I thought you were just working too hard, or being too overprotective of the baby to want to make love to me. But it was really because you're queer, isn't it? I disgust you."

"Larissa," he tried again patiently. He was going to ignore the racing of his heart for now. Getting angry out of sheer panic and defensiveness would not do either of them any good right now. "You don't disgust me. However, I am…attracted to men." Draco met her teary face head on. He would not drop his head, because contrary to whatever she believed, being gay was nothing to be ashamed of.

Her lips pursed together in a hard line before responding. "That's all I get? No 'I'm sorry for leading you on'? 'For making you believe that we were going to have a family together'? You make me sick," she spat.

Standing up now and tentatively crossing over to where Larissa stood, he tried to make her understand. "I've always wanted a family. Always wanted an heir that would better the Malfoy name. A child that I could spoil and treat better than my father treated me. But I didn't know how to tell mother that I'm gay and she wanted to see me start a family so badly, so…"

"So you started a courtship with me in order to beget your heir and then dump me by the wayside." The fight seemed to go out of Larissa with that realization and she looked terrifyingly fragile in that moment.

"I had no intentions of leaving you. Honestly," he said, placing a hand on her arm to lead to her an armchair. I just figured we would have a relationship similar to other pure-bloods, one that's mainly efficient versus romantic."

She sat down in the proffered seat, rubbing an absentminded hand along her growing belly. "You'll get part of your wish." Her voice was a whisper, but rang loud and forebodingly in Draco's ears. "You can have your heir, but you won't have me. I'm moving out once he's born."

Draco supposed that he should have been more concerned that she was leaving him, but could not help the fact that his ears pricked up at the mention of the gender. That was new information.

"We're having a boy?" he choked out.

" _You're_  having a boy," she corrected with an angry snort. "I'm just the surrogate."

With an anguished sigh, Draco crumbled onto the edge of his desk in front of his now ex-girlfriend. He should be happy right? He'd never truly wanted Larissa to begin with. And now he got to have his son without the drama of a paramour. But there was something inside of him that felt wrong. A wriggling that made him queasy with guilt.

With disturbing clarity, he was suddenly experiencing what it would feel like to fall for someone only to find out that they were not only uninterested in you sexually, but had essentially used you just to produce a child.

"I'm sorry," he whispered finally.

"So am I," she responded, looking down at the hand on her stomach.

* * *

Draco and Larissa spent the next several weeks ironing out the details of their arrangement. Larissa would officially give up custody of their son upon his birth and would not release information about Draco's orientation in exchange for a quarter of the Malfoy vault. Which, despite war reparations, was still in good standing.

Before he knew it, he was being owled to come to St. Mungo's as Larissa had gone into labor earlier that day. Stepping briskly into one of the private rooms in the Bona Dea Maternity Ward, Draco's breath caught as he saw a tiny tuft of white-blond hair sticking out from under a blue knit hat. His son was sleeping peacefully in a bassinet next to Larissa's bed where she was also fast asleep. A tall wiry nurse with a dour expression granted him a half-hearted congratulations before leaving the room, but he didn't even care.

"Well go ahead and pick him up, he is yours," a soft voice encouraged from the doorway.

He spun around and balked at the sight of his mother. He should have known that she would be there. Draco gave her a shaky smile before turning back to the cradle and oh-so-carefully lifting the sleeping bundle up into his arms. He had no idea what the hell he was doing. This entity, this teensy person belonged to him, would rely on him for attention, care, and love. Pride and affection began to edge out the extreme nerves in his system.

Draco scrutinized the pink flushed face, taking in a button nose and pale blond eyelashes that he just knew would highlight gray eyes once they opened. This was his son.

"Draco?" Narcissa called.

He looked up at her with a distracted smile on his face and instantly blinked hard against the flash of a camera.

She smirked and lowered the device. "Congratulations."

A startling sting pricked at his eyes. "Thanks Mum," he replied, voice fraught with emotion.

He gazed back down at the tiny person in his arms with overt awe. "Hello little Scorpius. Welcome to the family."


	4. Scorpius and Harry's Day of Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry is worn out by a seven-year old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can be read along with chapter 17 of the main story, when Draco was away for Harry's birthday.
> 
> Warning: Excessive cuteness.

Harry was nervous. He knew that he shouldn't be, especially when he took into consideration families like the Weasleys that primarily had Molly taking care of seven children during the day. Of course, she had magic to help, but incantations could only go so far when Fred and George were threatening to blow up the attic with their latest invention and Charlie was trying to sneak (another) borderline dangerous creature into the house.

So his paranoia was absurd when he really thought about it. He worked with children all day long. He mediated squabbles and helped push straws into juice boxes. Hell, he'd even looked after Scorpius the night Draco went missing. But this was different. This was a full day of nothing but Scorpius. Draco Malfoy's hyperactive miniature Scorpius. Harry gulped. It was going to be a long day.

Draco had been whisked away on that infernal business trip, and Harry, sap that he was, had eagerly offered to help look after Scorpius. Because apparently, Zabini was 'rubbish at handling children.'

Surely the other man's ineptitude would play in Harry's favor, right? How could he possibly look bad with Zabini around offering the kid free cologne samples?

Despite his attempts to bolster his courage, Harry had a sinking suspicion that his doom was still quite imminent.

On Saturday morning, Harry showered, dressed, and was Flooing over to Malfoy Manor in record time. True, there was little cause to rush as it was only 7:41am, but little kids get up early, Harry reasoned.

"Zabini? Scorpius? It's Harry," he called out to the disturbingly quiet East Wing. The hallway was shadowed just on one side, the other waiting for the weak morning sunlight to reach it.

After a few minutes of walking and getting turned around more than once Harry stumbled out into the main foyer.

"Scor?" he tried again, wondering if they just hadn't heard him the first time.

"Bloody hell Potter! What are you doing here so early?"

Harry looked up to see Zabini jogging down the stairs, hastily wrapping a dressing gown round his narrow waist. He blinked owlishly, desperately trying to shut out the morning's first rays from his tired eyes.

"Er, sorry. I figured Scorpius would be awake by now."

"Harry! I'm awake, I'm awake!" a giddy voice called from the top of the staircase. Scorpius barreled down the steps, nearly knocking Zabini to the side in his haste to reach Harry.

"Thanks a lot Potter," Zabini muttered.

"Morning Scor," Harry greeted the small boy now hanging from his knees. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Scorpius waved off his half-hearted apology. "It's alright. Uncle Blaise made sure I got plenty of rest yesterday. And last night."

 _I'll bet he did_ , Harry thought ruefully. He shot a glance over at Scorpius' temporary caretaker and swore he could see a blush forming under that caramel complexion.

"Little bugger wouldn't sit still for two seconds. What else was I supposed to do but put him to sleep?" Zabini asked rhetorically.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Scorpius. "So what do you want to do today? I'm here from sun up to sun down."

He might have been mistaken, but he could have sworn he caught a Dracoesque smirk forming on his tiny face before he responded.

"I want to do everything," Scorpius replied with a straight face.

Harry heard a soft snort from the stairs and turned in time to see Zabini slinking back up to the second floor.

"I'll be upstairs if you need me," he commented. "And you probably will need me," he added purely for Harry's benefit.

* * *

Three hours later, Harry was beginning to think Zabini had been right.

They had flown. They had played one on one Quidditch. They had played Aurors and Warlocks. They had even played Gobstones. Three times. Harry could still smell the foul liquid that had drenched his t-shirt after a spectacular loss.

Zabini had come outside for about an hour so he could instruct them both on Wizard's Chess. Though Harry was pretty sure he had set Harry up to lose. It shouldn't be that hard to beat a seven-year old, should it?

Currently, they were playing Scorpius' version of tag, which roughly translated to, 'I'll run like a madman until you can catch up with me and then pass out from exhaustion.'

Harry had no idea how one child could have so much energy. Had he been like that when he was Scorpius' age? He didn't think so. At seven, Harry was too busy cooking and cleaning for the Dursley's to even fathom running full-tilt through the yard (unless he was trying to get away from Dudley and Piers). This seemed…unnatural.

Scorpius' little legs worked furiously as Harry chased him around the massive grounds in back of Malfoy Manor. What was distressing was that Harry actually thought he could catch up to the mini-fireball. No such luck.

What Harry really needed right now was a broom. Or a nice cool glass of lemonade. That would be fantastic too.

This chasing people on foot business was definitely not for him. He supposed he was glad he'd decided not to try for the Aurors. The crooks probably would have run him ragged within the first ten minutes of a chase, leaving him gasping for breath on the ground, waving them on to steal whatever they liked as he struggled to inhale.

The words spinning round his mind eventually caught up with him and he shook his head minutely. This was not a hardened criminal he was tailing. It was a damn seven-year-old boy with too much adrenaline. Harry just needed to work smarter, not harder.

Allowing his body to slow naturally, he watched as Scorpius took a hasty left turn up at the begonia bush about twenty feet in front of Harry. If he remembered correctly, taking that path would lead Scorpius along several more paces before depositing him out next to one of the weeping willows he and Draco liked to sit under.

He turned abruptly and darted to his left, vaulting over a tiny hedge to reach the tree before his quarry. Harry was not disappointed. Catching his breath while he hid behind the trunk of the tree, he could hear fast steps approaching.

_Five…four…three…two…_

"Gotcha!" Harry cried as he leapt out from behind the willow and grabbed Scorpius around the middle, lifting him up in the air triumphantly.

"No fair! You cheated!" Scorpius sulked from his position above Harry's head.

Harry placed him back down on the ground. "Did not. The goal was for me to catch you. You didn't say _how_ I had to catch you."

A small pink lip jutted out from Scorpius' mouth. He looked as though he was barely controlling the urge to fold his arms.

"You sound like Dad," he moped.

Harry laughed heartily at that. He supposed that was a bit of a sneaky Malfoy move. But there were worse people he could be compared to than the blond Slytherin.

"Your Dad is clever. There's nothing wrong with that," he explained with a small smile still on his lips.

"I guess," Scorpius said.

"Come on. Let's go get some lunch, I'm starved."

The boy looked up at him with another evil grin. "Race you to the house?"

Harry's shoulders slumped as he thought about running again. "Fine. In three…two…"

He broke out into laughter again as Scorpius darted toward the Manor before Harry even got to "one."

* * *

"How are things with you Zabini?" Harry asked around a mouthful of one of the roast beef sandwiches that Teffy, Draco's kitchen elf, had prepared for them.

Zabini cast dark eyes over Harry's face in confusion.

"I mean, we don't really talk much do we? I don't really know anything about you," he clarified.

"Potter, I don't believe we've ever spoken," Zabini said with a tiny smirk. "Outside of this little soap opera drama of course."

Scorpius' ears seemed to perk up at that. "How come you don't talk?" he asked from across the massive dining table. "You're both friends with my Dad."

"I know," Harry started, "but sometimes two people can be friends with someone like your Dad, but not necessarily talk to one another."

Zabini nodded grudgingly. "Right. Your Dad, Harry and I all went to Hogwarts together, but only me and your Dad were friends back then."

Scorpius chewed thoughtfully. "Why weren't you two friends then?"

Harry looked up at Zabini who quirked a brow as if to say that the question was all his to answer.

"We were in different houses. Remember how I told you that I was in Gryffindor?" Harry questioned.

Scorpius nodded to show his understanding.

"Well, back then, people in Gryffindor and Slytherin didn't hang out together. We seemed to value different things."

He watched as Zabini picked at his sandwich in silence.

"Ok. But why aren't you friends now? You're not in Hogwarts anymore. You're grownups." Scorpius took a heaping gulp of lemonade and waited expectantly for an answer.

 _Your turn_ , he thought in Zabini's direction.

The dark-skinned man cleared his throat. "We haven't seen each other since school. This is the first time we've really hung out together."

Harry watched as Scorpius' mouth turned down a fraction. He obviously wasn't satisfied with that response.

"Would it make you feel better if we tried being friends now?" Harry chanced. He held back a chuckle as Zabini's head snapped up in alarm.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"That would be wicked!" Scorpius exclaimed.

Zabini groaned. Harry smirked.

"How about it _Blaise_?" Harry's eyes glistened with mischief.

A massive silence came over the room as Zabini looked back and forth between Scorpius' expectant face and Harry's questioning one. "I suppose we can try. Harry," Zabini said stiltedly.

"Now you have to shake hands," Scorpius instructed.

_Sweet Merlin, what is it with this family and handshakes?_

Harry shook his head ruefully, but cautiously held out his hand for Zabini to take. He saw the other man quirk an eyebrow before hastily grasping Harry's hand and pumping it once.

"That's better. Now we can finish eating," Scorpius declared.

"Tiny little dictator," Zabini muttered under his breath.

Harry choked back another laugh and finished up his sandwich.

* * *

Turns out it was a good thing that Scorpius brought Blaise and Harry together as it was taking a combined effort to wrangle the hellion into bed.

"Catch me if you can!" Scorpius exclaimed as he darted under Zabini's arms and took off down an upstairs corridor.

"Not this again," Harry groaned.

It was nearing 8:30 and he was bone tired. All he wanted right now was his bed, his pajamas, and some quiet. But it would take delicate handling of the task at hand before he could claim his reward of sleep…

"Fuck this," Zabini stated under his breath. He pulled out his silver birch wand and lightly floated Scorpius off his feet.

"Hey!" he exclaimed from down the hall. "Put me down!" he giggled.

Harry's head swiveled back and forth between the tip of Zabini's wand and where Scorpius was hovering harmlessly about a foot off the floor.

"Are you sure about this?" Harry whispered anxiously. He wanted to get Scorpius into bed too, but wasn't sure how Draco would feel about using magic on his son.

"Relax Potter, I'm not hurting him. I just don't feel like running all over the Manor. I'm putting him in bed, _right now_ ," he projected the last part of the sentence for Scorpius to hear.

"Nooo!" Scorpius hollered dramatically.

Harry shook his head in amusement and watched as Zabini happily floated Scorpius into his bedroom and secured him in his bed with a mild spell that would ensure the covers stayed tucked in until he actually fell asleep.

"Goodnight monster," Zabini said and ruffled Scorpius' hair good-naturedly before walking out of the room.

"Night Uncle Blaise," Scorpius muttered sullenly.

Harry crossed over to Scorpius' bed and knelt down on the floor next to him.

"I don't want to go to sleep Harry," Scorpius complained around a jaw-breaking yawn.

"I know you don't," Harry replied with a smile. "But we've had a long day and you need to rest as much as you can so that you'll have energy to play with your Dad when he comes home on Monday."

"You think he'll want to play?" Scorpius inquired, disposition perking up considerably at the idea.

"After coming back from his stuffy business trip Scor, he's going to want to play with you _all_ day."

Scorpius' face lit up with happiness. "Right. Guess I should sleep then."

"You should."

"I had loads of fun today. It would be great if you were here all the time to play with me," he mentioned wistfully.

Harry's knees began to ache at just the thought of running after Scorpius all day, every day. Well, he'd get plenty of exercise. And probably wouldn't have to bother with finding a full-time job, as he wouldn't have time for anything else again. Ever.

"I'm going to try to spend more time with you. The stuff we do at camp doesn't count."

"Will you still play with me even when camp's over?" Scorpius asked, voice growing softer as the plush linens and pillows had their effect on his small body.

Harry briefly thought about the impending end of camp and being able to spend more time with both Draco and Scorpius. The idea of Draco keeping him around made him happy.

"Definitely," he decided.

Scorpius gave a sleepy smile, prompting Harry to stand up and hesitate over his form. Taking a deep breath, he leaned down and brushed a swift kiss on Scorpius' forehead.

"Night Scor," he whispered.

"Night Harry," Scorpius said, before pulling his covers up and closing his eyes.

Harry's heart hammered manically before he pulled himself together and walked out into the hall.

He allowed himself to think about Draco coming home Monday to a rambunctious and energy-laden Scorpius.

Draco was going to kill Harry.

He chuckled as he stepped lightly down the stairs.

Some things never change.


	5. Our Winnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco accumulates a whole bunch of stuff at the Quidditch auction in Chapter 16. Now he doesn't quite know what to do with it all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of Bonus Scenes. I'll be posting my next story, East of Eden, sometime next week. Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Warnings: Explicit m/m sex.

"What in the hell are you going to do with all this stuff?" Harry asked Draco in exasperation.

Draco turned to face his boyfriend with an equally weary expression. "I told you, I'm not sure yet."

It was the week after the end of camp and they were standing in the middle of one of the ground floor parlors, looking on in awe at the paraphernalia Draco had won from the Quidditch auction at the convention. The shipment had just arrived with a parliament of owls, temporarily turning Malfoy Manor into an aviary. The room's normally tidy tabletops were now littered with game-winning Snitches, team jerseys, and other miscellaneous sporting goods.

"You could start a museum," Harry suggested to him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes Potter, I'm sure people would come and pay to see _one_ room of Quidditch items that I decided to bid on at an auction." He picked up a signed glove and then placed it back down idly.

"And _why_ did you bid on this lot again?" Harry asked, seemingly intent on driving Draco to madness with his incessant questions. He was as bad as Scorpius.

Draco flushed a little as he answered. "I may have gotten a bit overzealous."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'll say. But I do have an idea of what you can do with this stuff."

"And that would be?" Draco asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry leaned against the edge of the cherry wood accent table. "Will it to Scorpius. By the time he's our age, they'll be worth a fortune. And in the meantime, take good care of them and allow yourself to be the prestigious owner of a quality Quidditch collection. Even though you joked about it, I bet loads of serious collectors would love to come and look at your finds."

Draco frowned. "Scorpius isn't going to want this stuff when he's older. There are tons of valuable things my father left me, but they haven't even seen the light of day in years."

"I beg to differ. He's fanatical about Quidditch and would drool over these. Especially that World Cup trophy that I won," Harry added smugly.

"You would have to bring that up, wouldn't you?" Draco asked sullenly.

"Oh stop pouting," Harry said with a smile in his voice. "You won damn-near everything else."

"But I didn't win the trophy," Draco muttered. Ok, maybe he was pouting now. Harry just looked at him in bemusement.

"Look, I know that I sometimes get carried away when it comes to buying things. But it's only because I always want the things that no one else has. Always have, ever since I was little."

He watched with interest as the expression on Harry's face changed and the other man prowled over to where Draco stood.

"Is that why you wanted me?" he asked seductively. "You wanted someone that no one else has? Someone you could show off? Lord it over the peons because they don't have a chance of being with me?" Despite his words, Harry's tone said that he quite liked the idea of being owned like one of Draco's possessions.

Draco licked his lips involuntarily and moved into Harry's body heat. "Believe me Harry, that is only one of many reasons why I want you."

Harry moved in even closer and brought his lips to hover over Draco's. "Why don't you tell me a few?"

Draco's eyes closed of their own accord, feeling Harry's warm breath on his mouth. "Well," he started, already trying to control his racing heart. "You probably already knew this, but you're not bad to look at most of the time."

Harry's corresponding chuckle vibrated against Draco's chest. "Just most of the time?" He proceeded to lightly peck Draco on the lips before moving along his jaw and to his ear.

"Probably all of the time," he admitted in a whisper, embarrassed partly by the confession, but mostly because of the effect Harry's lips and tongue were having on him.

"Ok, so what else?" Harry asked. His hands had wandered down to Draco's backside, prompting a lightning-fast tightening in his groin. He bucked forward slightly as Harry increased his grip, surely leaving the indentation of his fingers on Draco's bottom.

"Er, loathe as I am to admit it, you're really quite bright," he stated cheekily and then yelped when Harry delivered a strong slap to his bum.

Harry grinned and then bit at Draco's lower lip. "That'll teach you to be a smart-ass with me. Now continue."

It was time for Draco to take control of this situation. He was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake. What kind of man was he, to just sit back and allow his boyfriend to manipulate him this way? Even if said manipulation was sexy and delicious.

He brought his hands up to drag along Harry's chest and let out a breathy moan that he knew drove the other man crazy with want. Right on cue, Harry's eyes widened and he moved his hands up from Draco's bum to his shoulder and the back of his neck to bring him into a heated kiss. Draco felt everything in his body responding to the aggression and passion in Harry's kiss. It was hard, blazing, and spoke volumes about what Harry wanted to do.

Draco broke away reluctantly to deliver one more shot. "Don't you want to hear more about why I want you?" he asked innocently, while not so innocently rubbing his crotch against Harry's. They both let out involuntary groans at the friction between their hard cocks.

"Fuck Draco, stop being a bloody tease and just show me," Harry snapped.

Draco gave a Cheshire grin. "Gladly." He used his leverage on Harry's chest to push him back against the accent table and rutted against him with abandon, loving the groans that were falling from Harry's lips.

He kissed Harry again, this time letting their tongues touch, and reveled in the jolt of feeling their magic mingle and caress each other. Draco's breath quickened automatically and he vaguely felt Harry's fingers slip to the front of his trousers, fumbling with the button and zipper.

"You want to do this in here?" Draco asked suddenly, the cool breeze that hit his cock when Harry opened his pants bringing him back round to sanity.

"Don't care where we do this, as long as it happens," Harry growled and palmed Draco's erection.

"Shit. Ok, come on." Draco grudgingly removed Harry's hand from his cock. He hastily pulled his zipper up, hoping that he didn't get his prick caught merely as an afterthought and dragged Harry by the arm and led him upstairs.

There was a blaring voice in the back of his head that warned him that Scorpius could turn up at any corner and he did not fancy being in the same room as his son while sporting his Harry-induced hard-on. The thought alone quickened his steps until he and Harry were practically jogging to his bedroom.

Once inside, he flung the door shut quickly and locked it with a flick of his wand. There would be no interruptions today. He turned his attention back to Harry.

"What do you want love? What can I do for you?" Draco asked, immediately turning the tables and working his way into Harry's jeans.

"Fuck Draco, I just want..."

Draco finally maneuvered Harry's cock from the confining denim and stretchy boxers and slid just his thumb into the wetness at the head, eliciting a sharp gasp from the brunet.

Draco grinned wickedly into Harry's neck before biting him teasingly. "What's that?"

"You Draco. Want your hands and mouth, everywhere," he managed to gasp out as Draco began stroking his length in earnest.

So Draco gave him what he needed. He led Harry over to the bed and pushed him down roughly, making him bounce a little on the mattress. In three swift strokes, Draco had removed Harry's jeans, underwear, and shirt and threw them into a heap on the floor.

Gasping for air, Harry breathed, "You should take your clothes off too. Let me see that gorgeous body."

Draco flushed with pleasure, but held his resolve. "Not yet. I want to take care of you first." He fitted his body along Harry's and reveled in the heat he could feel coming off the bare skin, even through a layer of clothes.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," Draco murmured against the thin skin of Harry's chest. "I want you trembling with need beneath me by the time I'm finished with you."

He felt Harry's groan vibrate through him and it spurred him into action.

Draco spent the next 15 minutes methodically worshipping Harry's body. His tongue traveled down every crevice, adored each muscle, and kissed every single rise and fall of the tanned skin. He relished every moan that fell from Harry's lips, each sound increasing his pleasure and the pressure in his pants.

After Harry had sufficiently turned to putty under his ministrations and Draco had finally deigned to remove his clothes, his fingers began searching for Harry's tight heat, probing his entrance and eliciting more delicious sounds from Harry's mouth.

A lazy Summoning spell brought a bottle of lube to his fingertips and he slicked up his fingers and Harry's puckered hole in tandem.

"Merlin Draco, I want you," Harry uttered wantonly. These were the first coherent words he had managed since telling Draco to take his clothes off. And Draco couldn't have Harry coherent. Not at this stage of the game.

Hurriedly, he inserted his first finger deep into Harry's heat, savoring both the tightness around the digit and the look of pained pleasure on his lovers face.

The preparation was quick. It was though Draco had used all his available patience during foreplay and now felt like he would combust if his prick didn't get inside Harry within the next 60 seconds.

"Please tell me you're ready," Draco pleaded, already taking his cock in hand.

"Ready enough, let's get on with it," Harry replied in a rough voice. Draco smiled at his eagerness. He was so glad he wasn't the only one who couldn't wait. Wrapping Harry's thighs around his waist, he placed a steadying hand on his hipbone and slid slowly, but steadily into the warm canal.

He heard Harry hiss from below him and looked up quickly to gauge his reaction. The bottle green eyes were screwed shut and his teeth were worrying his bottom lip.

"Alright?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"Yeah. Keep going." Draco continued looking at him, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. A quick upward thrust from Harry brought him back to the task at hand and he moaned as the motion slid him fully seated into Harry.

He couldn't come yet. He just couldn't. It would be embarrassing and Harry would make sympathetic noises to cover his anger and disappointment at the early finish.

"I would think of it as a compliment if you came now," Harry said suddenly, again making Draco's head snap up in shock.

"How did you-" Draco began.

Harry gave the best grin he could when he was filled to the brim with cock. "I know we haven't been doing this too long Draco, but I'd like to think I know what it looks like when you're moments away from orgasm."

Draco chuckled shakily and tried to regulate his breathing. "You just feel so good. And...I think I went overboard with the foreplay. I was ready to come just from looking at you."

Harry gave a bashful smile that completely negated the forceful thrust he gave from under Draco.

"Shit Potter! Stop doing that!" Draco stilled completely and bit his tongue hard to keep his orgasm back.

Harry complied, but the mischievous expression did not leave his eyes. Draco took the opportunity to close his eyes and take a painful step back from the edge. A few moments of composure later and Draco was pushing slow strokes into Harry's heat, embracing the feeling of Harry scraping his fingers down his back in ecstasy.

They moved together at a loving pace, the intensity of the movements making up for their lack of speed. And despite Draco's previous need to rush just 10 minutes prior, he couldn't imagine breaking away from the intoxicating languor of their lovemaking now.

The steady buildup of pressure and pleasure quickly brought both Draco and Harry to the brink and tossed them over at nearly the same time. Draco's head bore down and he stilled within his boyfriend, allowing the powerful wave of orgasm to wash over him. Below him, Harry's seed was spurting onto his stomach, coating his skin with the pearlescent liquid.

When he got his breath back, Draco moved to Harry's side and allowed his head to flop back on the pillows, completely sated.

They lay in silence for several minutes, allowing one another to unwind and for the sweat to cool on their skin. Draco closed his eyes in fatigue and thought Harry was drifting too, until he spoke.

"I'm getting chilly," Harry muttered, cuddling up closer to Draco's side.

"Maybe we should put some clothes on. I'm going to need to check on Scorpius in a bit anyway." Draco reluctantly peeled himself from Harry's body and slipped from under the duvet, racing to retrieve their pile of clothes before the cold marble stung his bare feet.

By the time he got back to the bed, Harry had found his wand and was cleaning them both up. Draco tossed him a T-shirt and his boxers and dressed himself in the like. Soon they were both back under the covers snuggled up together.

Draco buried his head into Harry's neck and inhaled the scent of cedar wood and sweat. Inherently Harry.

"This is nice and peaceful," Harry whispered, placing a tender kiss on Draco's temple. Then there was a soft knock on the door.

"Too peaceful apparently," Draco said with a wry grin. He aimed his wand at the door, releasing the locking spell and opening the door to display a sheepish Scorpius.

"Um...hello Scorpius," Harry said self-consciously. Draco was glad they'd gotten dressed. There were some things a seven year old just didn't need to see.

"Can I come in?" his son asked from the doorway.

Draco lifted his head and directed a quick glance at Harry to gauge his reaction. He was wearing a welcoming smile, so Draco beckoned Scorpius to come up and sit with them on the bed.

Scorpius, being Scorpius, hopped up and plopped himself smack dab between Draco and Harry. His little body fit perfectly between the two adults and Draco propped himself up on an elbow so he could look down at his two troublemakers.

"Comfortable, are you?" he drawled.

"Yes," Scorpius replied with a cheeky grin. Draco just shook his head while Harry laughed.

"I have a question for you Scorpius," the brunet asked a few beats later.

Draco watched as Scorpius turned his head a bit so he could see Harry better. "What is it?"

"What do you think your Dad should do with the things he won from the Quidditch auction?"

It was as though Scorpius didn't even hesitate. "Give them to me! I want them!" he exclaimed, miniature gray eyes lighting with excitement.

Harry rolled so that his head was buried under his pillow and laughed so hard his shoulders shook with mirth.

"What did I say?" Scorpius asked wearing a perplexed expression and patting a hand on Harry's back in an attempt to get a response.

Draco rolled his eyes. So Harry was right. He was going to be insufferable now.

Harry was sputtering and clearing his throat as he tried to get his laughter under control and Scorpius was still trying to wrangle an answer out of him. Draco's chest grew warm at the familial sight.

No, never insufferable. Not anymore.

~fin~


End file.
